Trainwreck
by Samsquatch67
Summary: Dean glanced back for a moment, seeing what had happened. The iron rails of the train track had been ripped apart; burned the train had been unable to stop, and was plunging into a ravine overlooking a long river beneath it. "Sammy, don't look down." (Rated K for some violence. Hurt!Sam, Protective!Dean slight hurt!Dean NO SLASH)
1. Chapter 1: Temporary treck

**Okay, well, hey! This SHOULD, hopefully, be a long chapter! The action starts at the end of the chapter, but please read the rest! If you skim, you might just miss something, please keep that in mind! And I don't remember where, but somewhere Cass is mentioned and does show up(Probably in chapter 2), even if you have to squint at the screen at first, he's there!:) Okay, well, here goes nothing! **

SEPTEMBER 1989, 8:30PM LEAVING SOUTH DAKOTA: Dean looked out the small window of the train car at the dark grey sky, that had just begun pouring rain. It was getting darker already, but was made even more so by the storm clouds that had gathered. He breathed quietly, instantly covering the window in cold fog. It was freezing outside... or it seemed like it, even though it was raining. At the train station, it must have been less than 35 degrees. Inside the train didn't feel that much warmer. He couldn't complain of course, as it really wasn't THAT bad... but still, it seemed like it. He listened to the train moving loudly over the tracks toward Oklahoma to meet their father, John Winchester it would be a LONG trip, especially for 6 year old Sam. He had handled it pretty well so far, for never being on a train before... but they had only been on it for about half an hour. Dean sighed quietly, staring out the window for several more seconds, then turning and looking at Sam, who was sitting right beside him.

"Dean, how close are we?" he mumbled quietly, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes for a second, before flinching and opening them at the sound of the train on the train tracks, fast, scarily fast. He sighed quietly and shifted in the seat restlessly, looking at his brother again and waiting for him to speak again...

Dean sighed again, knowing that this would DEFINITELY be a long trip for his younger brother. "Not real close. Sammy, we just left 30 minutes ago." he said quietly, looking around the train car, which was full of people. the couple in front of them were middle aged, and had four kids, all of whom were older than he and Sam... all teenagers. The people across the isle to the right were two grouchy old Mexican men. The people along the rows were all different... some old, some young... some sleeping, a few reading. He and Sam were the only two kids on the train that weren't accompanied by adults. Not that it was something Dean wasn't used to. John was rarely around. He could never quite get rid of the feeling that he was practically raising Sam completely on his own. He turned in the seat, looking at the door to the car and wondering if they could leave this room, go into some other one... he didn't really have a high level of patience.

"Oh..." he said distantly, looking out the window just past Dean. It was pouring rain now, silver ribbons from the dark, nearly black, puffy, swollen clouds in the sky. He looked back around the train car they were in, looking at the other 'passengers' and then back to Dean, with and practically begging, 'Can we stand up?' expression.

After several moments of silence, Dean looked down at Sam again, seeing his pleading expression. Since Dean was already tired of sitting in the same place, he nodded slowly, looking around for several moments and sliding Sam across the seat, then standing up and taking Sam's hand, he walked silently through the aisle to the door.  
He turned around for a moment, making sure that no one noticed/tried to stop them. He pulled open the door, which opened to a small, railed walkway to the next car. He gritted his teeth and looked slightly nervously at the metal 'path' as you might call it. He looked up at the black, rainy sky, then back down at the walk-way. He slowly moved forward, pulling Sam with him, then reaching the other side and opening the door. He sighed with relief, glad that this happened to be an empty train car, unlike the others. The floor and seats were covered in red carpet, much like the previous room, it was dimly lit by a few lanterns, but other than that, there was very little light.

He moved after Dean, across the metal 'path' if you could call it that, and into the next empty train room/car/place. Sam walked ahead of Dean, looking around the medium sized car and bolting towards one of the seats, flopping unceremoniously backwards onto them and giggling quietly, squirming in the seat to sit up, a grin now pasted on his face. 

Dean smiled slightly, following Sam, but moving to the seat/bench in front of the one Sam was now in. He sat in it backwards, sitting up as high as he could and crossing his arms over the top, looking at Sam, who was covered in raindrops that ran down his hair and onto his jacket. He laughed quietly at Sam's expression, which was a somewhat ridiculous, yet innocent expression. "Better?" he asked, already knowing the answer based on Sam's reaction. Dean pulled his backpack from his shoulder, dumping it in the seat next to him. It had both his, and Sam's stuff in it... everything they had brought with them anyway.

"Mhm..." Sam nodded vigorously, not trying to sit up any longer. "Hey Dean, can I ask you something?" he started, still lying on the seat backwards and staring up at his brother. He didn't wait for an answer, only continued, "What was Mom like...?" he asked quietly and curiously... he just wanted to know. John would clam up, and Dean didn't talk about her that much either.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and let his head fall slowly onto his crossed arms. "Now?" he asked, not really wanting to talk about it. Still, he opened his eyes and looked at Sam, who was looking desperately up at him. He nodded slowly knowing that a 6 year old wouldn't know better than to ask... there was technically no harm in his question. Dean knew how John acted when Sam asked. He would either say nothing at all, change the subject, or get mad. Dean sighed quietly, pulling open his backpack and pulling out a picture of their mother. He leaned over the back of the seat and handed it to Sam. "She was nice... nicer than Dad is... Don't tell that I said that." he added, pausing and thinking of more. "She was the nicest girl on earth... 'least I'm pretty sure she was." he stated, closing his eyes again, picturing Mary before... before the fire. "She always called you Sammy..." he told his younger brother, remembering that it was Mary, and not John, who had called Sam that.

Sam nodded again, listening carefully to Dean and taking the picture, staring down at it silently for several seconds before looking back up at Dean. "When she died, is that why Dad starting acting mad all the time?" he asked, staring up at Dean with large, bright green eyes, still holding onto the picture. Though eventually he handed it back, he still didn't seem to so much as blink while he stared at his brother.

Dean groaned inwardly, not wanting to think about that night... nothing about it was pleasant. Memories slowly flooded back into his mind though, and since he was unable to stop them anyway, he might as well talk to Sam about it. "Probably." he stated simply in reply to Sam's words. He blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears that wanted to flow from his eyes. He sniffed quietly, rubbing one hand over his eyes and taking the picture back, putting it into his backpack again.

"Okay," Sam replied sadly, seeing Dean's blurry eyes as he sniffed quietly, obviously not wanting to talk about that. Sam looked up at the roof of the train, hearing the wind against the train's sides, the noise of the tracks, and horn or something holding out several, long held out notes, then disappearing back to the regular sounds from the train, well, besides the rain beating harsh against the sides. "Do you think we'll ever have a home?"

looked at Sam again, nodding slowly and replying. "'Course we will... someday." he replied, smiling slightly to try to back up his words. He hoped he was right. So far, John gave no sign of wanting to stop and actually have a house... a permanent place to stay, but Dean was sure that they would stop eventually... they had to. Their dad couldn't keep going like this forever.

Sam let the smile return to his face at Dean's words, 'Course we will... someday.'. He nodded vigorously and uselessly, rolling his head on the seat again to look up at the roof... he was getting used to the sounds of the train and the rain, maybe it was even... relaxing? "Thanks Dean..." he murmured tiredly, glad his brother hadn't clammed up or shut him out, not like John did at least...

"Uh... sure." Dean replied, not sure what exactly it was that Sam was thanking him for. In the distance, he heard the whistle blow… They were probably passing through a small town or a train station. He sighed, glancing down at his watch. It was now 9:00. It had been another half hour... so, not long.

Sam rolled over towards the back of the seat, pushing his head against the seat somewhat and looking down, curling up and pulling his wet jacket around himself more. Maybe if he could fall asleep, by the time he was awake, they would be where John was? "'Night D'n..." he mumbled through the chair, sounding oddly fatigued, hoping that his brother wouldn't want them to move back to the other car...

Dean stood up, moving to the seat Sam was in. He pulled off his own jacket, which was less soaked then Sam's, then pulled Sam off the seat for a second, pulling off his brother's completely soaked jacket and replacing it with his own. "G'night Sammy." he replied, sitting down beside Sam and pulling his little brother closer to him. He leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes, but somehow knowing that he would get no sleep tonight.

Sam didn't move as Dean swapped out their jackets, sitting down next to him and pulling him closer with an simple 'G'night Sammy.'. He pushed himself up towards his big brother more, sighing quietly and gripped the jacket with both hands, which, it was more like a blanket than an actual jacket the way he was using it.

...It was about 2 hours later, at 11:23, Dean's eyes flew open and he sat up slightly. He could hear a loud screeching sound, following by a jolting, scraping sound. He gasped as he and Sam were thrown forward. He put one arm out, catching his balance, and Sam, before the two of them were thrown to the floor. He stood up, not letting go of Sam, as, at that point, the train was actually at an angle. He could now hear screaming coming from the other train cars. His eyes widened slightly as he scrambled backward, onto the seat again and held onto it with one hand. What was happening?


	2. Chapter 2: Trenchcoat

**Well, chapter 2!:D 4 follows, yay! I was happy with ONE! :D I'm co-writing this with my friend VanillaJohn, who, does not have an account on here yet unfortunately! :/ But anywho, here's chapter twwooooo... Enjoy, thank you sooo very much for reading!:) **

Sam gasped quietly and gripped the seat until his hands turned white, staring forward as he heard screams and yells from the other 'cars' of the train... He ground his teeth slightly and looked at his brother with wide, worried eyes, still holding onto the seat and feeling the train start to... what... tip? Move? Fall...?

Everything started happening quickly, the there was a grating, hissing, popping sound, and then people started screaming that there was a fire. The train began jolting forward, and downward, faster and faster by the second. It wasn't long before people actually started flooding into 'their car' trying to escape whatever was happening by going backward. Dean looked around with wide-eyed fear as people moved in, crowding into the room and pushing he and Sam out of their way. Someone pushed them out of their way, sending both of them rolling to the front of the car. Dean still didn't let go of Sam, and with both of them falling toward the edge of the car, it was less than a second, when both of them were on the small metal pathway, hanging on for dear life as both of them hung over the edge. People kept running past, trying to get to the last car, ignoring the two kids who were practically hanging on by a thread. Dean glanced back for a moment, seeing what had happened. The iron rails of the train track had been ripped apart... burned... the train had been unable to stop, and was plunging into a ravine overlooking a long river beneath it. "Sammy, don't look down." he said, only just loud enough to hear. The rain was making it even harder to hold on... but he refused to let go. He had to keep Sam from falling. Suddenly, both he and Sam were pulled off of the edge by someone... Dean gasped slightly, but instantly clung to whoever it was that had pulled him and Sam from the edge. THe person carried both of them to the now empty car, then set them down. Dean turned to see who it had been, but the person was gone.

Sam still clung to Dean, seeing an edge of a... trench coat? But that was all he saw of whoever it had been. He didn't try to stand up, only staying on the floor next to Dean, shivering and flinching at every movement and sound... The train car they were in jutted sideways with an sudden jolt, sending Sam toppling away from his brother... Something heavy, about his size or larger, toppled from the other side and slammed against him, throwing him to the ground and keeping him pinned... He screamed in pain and horror, something cracking inside of his chest... he struggled for a second, an crunching sound following his movement, along with an shooting pain; he abruptly laid still, no longer moving, only whimpering painfully..(Fractured sternum) He held his breath for as long as he could, when breathing only taking in a small gasp, the pain shooting through him at every movement, even breathing... "Dean...!" he cried out in pain and terror, petrified... Was Dean even still... no, he had to be alive... Sam turned to try to see him, but he couldn't, there was just nothing. Pain periodically traveled down his arms and legs, through shocks of agony for seconds, then leaving his limbs numb... over and over again... And almost dull ache ran through his left shoulder, and a sharp throe in his neck.

Dean rolled across the floor of the car as it tipped, nearly instantly, he hit the other side of the wall. "Sam..." he coughed the words out fearfully. He had heard his brother calling his name. He could see him only about 4 yards to his right, pinned under something. He crawled forward, reaching Sam's side quickly. "No.. no... no..." he whispered quietly, fear gripping him as he tried to pull the thing off of Sam. He couldn't lift it. He slid his hands along the edge of it, trying to get a better hold on it. He flinched slightly as he felt the sharp metal digging into his hands. He refused to stop, pulling hard on it. Blood ran from his hands as he continued attempting to pry the metal plank/board off of his brother. Seconds later, movement of the falling train stopped, it seemed to almost hover for a moment, then land on something with a loud thud. What had happened? How had they stopped? Seconds later, the metal on top of Sam was moved, though he hadn't been the one moving it. It was someone else... The person stood in the shadows of the dark room. Whoever it was moved forward, but before anything else happened, light flashed for only a moment, and he was gone. Dean looked down at his bloody, aching hands. They were cut deep... but he couldn't focus on that... not now. What had happened to Sam? He moved to Sam's side, trying to remember the training their father had given them. He took Sam's pulse... yes, he was still alive, but he wasn't moving. Something was wrong... Dean swallowed hard, looking around in desperate fear. He had to get Sam out... but he couldn't carry him... not without knowing what had happened. He trembled with slight fear, not knowing what to do. He had never had to deal with something like this before without John. "Please be okay..." he whispered, knowing that he had to do something. "Hold on." he whispered shakily, moving across the room and looked out the open door. The train car had somehow been detached from the train itself, and managed to be propped up on top of one of the others, and wedged into the smallest part of the ravine so that it wouldn't fall farther of sink. They were safe for now... if this could be considered safe. He quickly found a long wood and metal board and dragged it across the room toward Sam. He set it beside him and then pulled him onto it carefully, knowing that he should move him to much. "Sorry..." he whispered, knowing/guessing that it probably hurt. 'I don't know what to do.' he thought desperately, shivering slightly from the cold. The screams had all stopped, and there was not a sound but that of quiet rainfall all around. It was about half and hour past midnight, and pitch black outside. He couldn't move Sam tonight... he would have to wait until it was light. Until then, he had to keep him warm and make sure that he was stable. Dean looked around for any kind of light at all. There was something, a flashlight. He moved toward it, praying that it would work. He clicked it on, and sighed with relief, it worked. He moved back to Sam's side, instantly groaning inwardly. He could clearly see that his shoulder was dislocated. He would have to put it back in place... what else was wrong? He didn't know. "You're gonna be okay..." he whispered weakly, looking at Sam and then around the room/car/space. He moved to the other side, pulling a blanket that someone had dropped from under a pole, and bringing it back toward Sam. He pulled it over him and sat beside him, knowing he would have to do more.

'Sam... No... no... no... Please be okay... hold on. Sorry... You're gonna be okay...'. Sam heard his brother, and pried open his eyes, staring up at his brother for several seconds with an blank expression... It quickly turned to relief, then to something else. Relief... his brother was alive... Hot tears rolled down the six year olds face as he tried to fight the pain, breathe through it, like their father had always taught them... never had it been so hard. He pulled an numb arm up towards his brother, sluggishly pushing around the blankets trying to find his brothers hand. "D'n, it hurts..." he choked out painfully, blinking blurry green eyes and taking in small gasping breaths. He couldn't find his brother... he couldn't reach him, he couldn't move towards him... He let out a quiet agonized sob, clacking his teeth together and staring up helplessly and miserably, he couldn't even turn his head to see his brother, not unless he wanted to feel like someone was smashing the back of his neck with an sledgehammer.

Dean moved closer to Sam, taking his brother's small hand in his and coughing quietly. "I know... I'm gonna make it better though... I promise you Sammy." he said quietly, slowly setting Sam's hand back under the blanket. He had to re-locate Sam's arm. "This is gonna hurt... I've gotta do it though... Just like Dad taught us, mk?" he said quietly, glad for once of the hours of hard training that John had put them through. He waited for a moment, looking at Sam and then counting to three. He cracked it back in place, apologizing again, as he knew that it would hurt... Sam was only 6, how could it not?

Sam nodded briskly and closed his eyes, waiting, and evidently not having to wait long... He cried out in pain and shock, quaking and staring up in distress. He didn't move his hand back from under the blanket, just staying deathly still, his skin clammy and ashen.. Sam had tears streaming from his eyes, occasionally choked up with a quiet, jolt of an sob.  
The train had cars from it that had fallen into the ocean, rushing waters beneath, the only one still above was stacked on others, which was the one they were in. The 'bridge' had been burned, by what exactly, who knows. There was a long, windy path leading upwards just a ways away from the train and cars... but there was no one traveling the path. No more screams. Not any sounds besides the howling of the wind, the drizzling rain, cracking debris, and the running waters. There was only one question. What happened?

Dean searched the car for anymore blankets, finding two more. He moved back toward Sam, putting the blankets over him and curling up next to him. There was nothing more he could do now... not in this much darkness... the flashlight did not put out enough light. It was getting colder, and would continue to do so until the sun rose the next day. He blinked rapidly, then closed his eyes, moving as close to Sam as he could without making Sam move. He took Sam's pulse... still good. He was cold though... but not TOO cold. "We're gonna get out of here tomorrow." he said quietly, looking at Sam, then up at the roof for several seconds.

Sam conveyed his head towards Dean, despite his screaming and disagreeing neck, nuzzling the bottom of Dean's neck with a tear stained face, burying his face against his older brother and gasping quietly, covering it up with an small, lame cough. "Y-y-you're cold..." he said, meaning to suggest 'get a blanket', he still had Dean's jacket, and his brother piled all the blankets on top of him.

"It's not that bad..." Dean whispered quietly, still, he moved slightly closer to Sam as he spoke, pulling one of the edged of the blankets over himself. He rubbed his bloody, shredded hands together, wincing at the pain, but making no sound to indicate his discomfort. He tilted his head slightly, and his breathing rustled Sam's hair. "We're gonna be okay..." he stated, hoping that they would, hoping that he would know what to do, that he would do the right thing... that Sam would be okay. He could feel Sam's tears running down his neck and shivered slightly for a moment, involuntarily letting out a quiet sob, but quickly 'covering' for it with a cough.

Sam nodded weakly at Dean's words, not saying anything until he heard Dean saying 'We're gonna be okay...'. "'M scared..." he mumbled through Dean's neck, trembling painfully and feeling Dean's breathing moving his hair. He felt his brother shiver for a second before jolting just slightly, turning it around to a cough... "I'm s-s-sorry Dean..." he apologized to his brother, though aimlessly, and not specifying why.

"I know... I... it's okay... no reason to be scared... I'm here." he said calmly, though inside, he was far less calm, trying to think of everything at once. How would they get out? How would he get Sam out when he could hardly move? How far away were they from Oklahoma? When would their dad realize that they were missing? Would they be found in time? His thoughts were pushed away by Sam's small voice whispering that he was sorry. "You didn't do anything wrong." he said to his little brother as he moved one hand out from under the blanket and pulled Sam closer to him, careful not to turn/twist him though. He moved his hand gently through Sam's hair, then wrapped one arm around him slowly, making sure not to move him.

"You always are..." Sam said, the faith of a six year old in his older brother. He tried his hardest not to move, even as his brother moved him closer to himself, one arm wrapped around him, making sure he wouldn't twist/turn. He mewled quietly at the pain, though trying to keep any sounds to a minimum. Hot then cold tears still occasionally escaped his eyes, running down Dean's neck. "Dean... w...what... did... Dad, used to be like?"

Dean didn't even hesitate to speak this time, knowing that he had to try anything to keep Sam's mind from the pain. It may not work, but he had to try. "He used to always ask me if you were old enough to carry a football when you were just 5 months old. He used to laugh all the time... he would read stories to us... he and Mom would sit on the couch with us and rock you to sleep. They loved eachother... Mom and Dad... I don't think I've ever seen people who loved each other more." he whispered, tears slowly running from his eyes as he spoke. He was scared, tired, and cold, and Sam was injured badly... he knew that he had to find a way out of the train car the next day... if they didn't, then search parties may never find them... and he wouldn't risk Sam getting worse or... no. He wouldn't even think about that... not now.

6-year-old listened to Dean's instant reply, his heart flopping around like a fish on land inside of his chest, sending an actually welcomed pain. He nodded slowly and carefully, only listening to Dean as he spoke... he missed that... something he had never had... was that even possible? "S-so, like, S...superman, and, Lois Lane?" he asked innocently, still feeling the throbbing through his legs and arms, then numbness, the constant pressure and pain in his chest, neck.

Dean nodded slowly, smiling only for a moment. "Yup... just like that. But Mom was prettier than Lois Lane... and Dad doesn't wear bright red underwear on the outside." he said, hoping to cheer Sam up, even in the slightest way. He breathed quietly using his free hand to wipe his own tears away, of course, that didn't help any, but rather, it just smeared blood across his face. He looked at his cut up hand with a look of exhaustion... he would do something about it tomorrow... if he found the time.

Sam laughed painfully, taking in a rasping breath, "Eeeww, Dean!" he exclaimed, trying to push out the image of John in Superman's outfit, including the bright red underwear on the outside. He rubbed his face against Dean's neck cautiously for a second, wiping off the tears then returning to the stillness.

The older brother smiled slightly at Sam's sudden exclamation. "Yeah, I guess that is a bit scary to picture." he laughed quietly, not moving as he felt Sam's head rubbing against his neck. He breathed out a long sigh, listening to the quiet rain outside the wreckage of what was left of the train car. He was glad of the shelter though. At least they weren't out in the cold rain. He suddenly had a 'flashback' to the train car's stop. It was like it had hovered. "Sometimes... I wonder if there are people who actually have superpowers..." he whispered, half to himself, half to Sam. "Where would they live?" he asked quietly, just thinking about it was somewhat comforting.

"M...m...'don't know." Sam stuttered and stopped moving at all, not saying another word, just focusing on breathing... The six year old, frankly, felt like he would black out from pain. His heart raced as Dean's neck turned to black spots, a dizzy, then lightheaded feeling coming over him. "Help me..." he blurted out helplessly, quaking for several seconds then becoming still again, just breathing evened out into his self unconsciously working.


	3. Chapter 3: Moving

**Author's note from VanillaJohn: "MOre's coming, soon! Might even get to post more today! Sorry for hurting Sam, and, btw, this is NOOOOTTT a deathfic! No!"**

Dean gasped quietly, awakened by a dream... nightmare actually. His breath came in quick gasps and he turned to look at Sam, taking his pulse, making sure that the dream had only been that... a dream. He was still breathing... he was okay. Dean sighed with relief, inching slowly away from Sam and sitting up. He pulled his knees up and leaned his head against them, coughing quietly and sitting in the same position several seconds. Finally, he looked up, toward the open door of the train car. It was light now... he had no idea what time. It was actually somewhat cloudy, but at least it wasn't raining. He silently moved across the train car, and then reaching the door. He looked out, staring down at the quiet waters. Through the clear water, he could see the other cars, all sunken, with their own propped almost impossibly onto of all of them, almost as if it had been stacked. He swallowed hard, then shook his head. He knew that they needed supplies. He also had to get/find his backpack. But he wasn't leaving until Sam woke up. He didn't want Sam to freak out if he just left without saying where he was going. He slipped quietly back toward his brother, not intending to wake him up though. He would let him sleep until he woke up on his own... it seemed that the only peace he had was when he was sleeping. Dean sighed quietly, now looking down at his hands. The scratches looked even worse in the light. They were deep, and covered in dried blood. He needed to wash and wrap them. He could feel the aching more now than last night... his hands were completely sore, as apposed to the dull ache they had last night. He sighed quietly thinking, 'I wish Dad was here...'

Sam woke up with a quiet groan, for several seconds completely forgetting everything that had happened, the train crashing, everything. He pried open his eyes one at a time, staring up at the roof with an emotionless expression, until all of the memories came flooding back to him. "Dean?" he asked quietly, shifting carefully to look at his brother, who was sitting next to him looking down at his hands... His eyes widened as he saw Dean's hands caked in blood, eyes flickering between his brother's face and his hands.

At hearing Sam's voice calling him, he quickly put his hands into the pockets of his jeans, flinching slightly at the pain, but quickly erasing any hint of pain. "Hey." he answered quietly, nodding slowly and then looking around the train car. He looked back at Sam, who was still looking at him with a worried look. "I'm okay... really." he said in reply to what he guessed Sam was thinking. "I'm gonna go find supplies if I can... now that you're awake again. You'll be okay without me, right?" he asked, waiting for Sam to speak again before he moved away. He was still worried about Sam. He hadn't moved since the previous night. Dean had no way of knowing how bad the injuries were... how could he? He blinked rapidly, again focusing on reality and waiting for Sam to answer.

"Yeah, I'll b-be fine." Sam said and nodded slowly, closing his eyes and rolling his head back to face the roof, listening to Dean for a second if he were to say something else, before 'zoning out' you could say. The pain from the previous night in his arms and legs that would numb, was now steadied at an dull aching, he was covered in bruises from wounds and the metal/wood slamming against him, a place in his spine was swelling and red around it, his neck still felt the same, breathing was harder, and there was slight swelling on his chest from the fractured sternum.

Dean nodded slowly, then turned and stood up, moving toward the one of exit doors to the left. He moved to the edge of it, slowly and carefully moving to the ledge near it. He held onto it tightly, flinching at the feeling of the sharp rocks against his bloody, and now bleeding hands. He moved across it quickly, then toward the water slowly, inching down to where he could see the top of one of the metal cars.  
Dean slowly lowered himself onto it. It was about 3 feet underwater. He frowned slightly at the freezing water, but didn't hesitate. He walked forward on the top of it, looking up at the train car they had been in, which was wedged between to rock 'walls' and positioned onto of another train car. Now that he could see it from the outside, it looked even more impossible than he had thought it would. Still, he didn't question it, only continued moving forward. He sighed and stared into the now clear water, not really wanting to have to go INTO it, but... what choice did he really have? None.

He took a deep breath and jumped into the icy water, shivering as the cold swept over him. He swam forward, his hands trailing blood through the clear water. He moved into the train car and looked around. His eyes widened as he could see blurry versions of... people... dead... staring down at him, drowned, floating at the top of the train car. He recoiled in slight horror and froze in place for several seconds. He knew though, that he had to get supplies.

He swam forward, looking for something, anything really, that he could use, that would be useful. He eventually found his backpack, which was semi waterproof... though not completely. He knew that pretty much everything paper inside of it would be ruined though... except for a few things, which would have been in a plastic box. He grabbed the backpack and moved back to the opening of the train, groaning inwardly about the heavy thing trying to drag itself back down. Finally though, he managed to get it above water. He took a deep breath and moved onto the top of the sunken train again. He dragged the slushy backpack with him along the top of it, then slung it onto the ledge near their train car, figuring he would 'catch up to it.' He climbed back up, then grabbed the backpack with one hand, and pulled himself back into the train, shivering from the cold.  
He unzipped the backpack and pulled everything out of it to try, hanging it upside down. He moved back to the door of the train car knowing that he had to get ice now. He sighed, glancing back at Sam and nodding to him. "Be right back, again..." he said, leaving the train car and climbing down again, then walking on top of the same car, walking to the bottom of the one that was perched between the rocks. He stared up at it, seeing the icicles hanging down from it. That was one plus to the rain and the freeze last night... ice. He would need it for Sam.

"Mk.." Sam muttered and finally opened his eyes, listening to the squashy, water-filled-shoes sound as Dean walked away until the sound disappeared along with his brother. He looked as far as he could to double check, before dragging himself carefully backwards until he felt his head bump against something hard. He cautiously dragged himself upwards until he was leaning against it, panting at the effort of moving and groaning quietly, but forcing himself to stay sitting.

Dean returned to the train car, dragging himself up with effort this time, muttering something about the cold. He looked at Sam with slight worry, seeing him leaning back against the side of the train. "Sam... w..." he stopped, not bothering to ask what he was going. He was a 6 year old kid... they could never sit still. He moved next to him, sitting down, still holding onto the icicles. He had a cloth in the backpack... he could wrap the ice in it and use it as an ice pack. He nodded in reply to his own thoughts, moving toward the contents of the pack and quickly finding it. He quickly went through with his 'plan' then moved back to Sam's side.  
He sat down again, looking at Sam for a moment and shrugging. He unbuttoned Sam's shirt, and looked at the swelling/bruising. "Dang it..." he muttered quietly, not knowing what that meant, or how bad it was. He gently pressed the ice pack against it, muttering an apology as he did so.

Sam looked up slightly guiltily as he heard Dean come back with an 'Sam...w...', but said nothing else, just moving next to him, sitting down and wrapping ice in some cloth, nodding to himself. He gasped in surprise from the freezing ice, and the revelation that any pressure to the wound, even the slightest touch shot burning pain. He flinched away from the ice pack, eventually settling down again and staring at his brother with wide, worried eyes as he breathed in ragged gasps, with an 'What's wrong with me?' expression.

"Sorry..." Dean answered Sam's flinching with yet another apology. He blinked rapidly, forcing himself to stay calm, he had to. One of them had to... and he didn't expect his 6 year old brother to have to act calm... he shouldn't HAVE to... he was a kid. "You're gonna be fine. I promise." he stated, telling himself that Sam would be okay. Of course he would... they would be fine. He stayed where he was, trying to remember what John had said this kind of injury was. He finally thought/remembered something that sounded like it. Sternum fracture... 10 minutes ice, 10 not, on and off. Okay, there was that. He sighed quietly, somewhat relieved at least to KNOW what he was dealing with as far as ONE of the things. He sighed quietly, for a moment remembering all the dead people in the train car. He gasped slightly, quickly pushing the thought from his mind though and refocusing, looking at Sam with a calm expression. "I bet Dad's already looking for us." he stated, hoping that he was, because he didn't want to have to spend very long out here like this.

"I...I hope he is.." Sam said, nodding several times and still leaning carefully back against the 'wall'. "Dean, what are we gonna do?" he asked quietly, still staring at his brother with wide, wondering eyes, wondering if even Dean knew what exactly they were gonna do... would they stay there, or move, or wait, or what? He blew out air in a quietly, shaky, cut off sigh, looking down at the floor next to himself.

"Umm... we're gonna stay here for a few hours, then... Uh... probably gonna get out of here... we can't stay here forever." he said, knowing it was true. If/when rescue crews showed up, they wouldn't want to have to come down this way... it wasn't easy. They had taken the fast, deadly way down... the crew wouldn't want to risk any of their people coming down, so it would be best for them to try to get out. He would probably have to carry Sam... he could barely sit up, let alone try to walk.

"A... Okay..." the younger brother said finally, nodding vigorously and then stopping dead, leaning his head back against the wall with a grimace of pain. He rolled his eyes towards Dean, breathing in heavy, but short, nervous breaths, until finally closing his clouded, green eyes and staying silent for the most part.


	4. Chapter 4: Out of the Frying Pan

**OKay, so, we got to post, TWO chapters today! :D This story isn't going to be SUPER long, so, a few more chapters to go! If you haven't figured/guessed already, this was Role played! It works well! I suggest you try it, find somebody to RP/write with!:) (ANd sorry for spelling mistakes!) Also, "things are about to get interesting again... poor brothers." ~ as VanillaJohn put it. **

Two hours later, Dean looked around the small train car and sighed quietly. He looked down at his hands, which he had wrapped. The white cloth was now stained with blood. He gritted his teeth in irritation, but they couldn't wait there any longer. "Okay, you ready?" he asked Sam, knowing that he would have to be. "I'm gonna carry you out." he stated, figuring Sam couldn't walk at this point. He had enough trouble breathing. "Tell me when you're ready." he said quietly. He had already looked for the best possible way out, which happened to be climbing a small way down, and then getting on the sunk train car, walking over the top to the other side, where there was a small, up hill path. It got rocky in some places, and steep in others, but it was the only possible way to get out without having to mountain climb with Sam on his back.

Sam looked at his brother for several second without saying anything, only coughing quietly before closing his eyes again. "I'm ready.." he mumbled quietly before re-opening his eyes, waiting for Dean to move or say something else again, only gritting his teeth together in slight anticipation.

"Mk." Dean replied quietly, getting the backpack that he had re-filled and slinging it over his shoulders, then picking up Sam and thinking, 'Good thing he's only six, and like, four feet tall.' He moved toward the door, carrying Sam as carefully as he could manage. He knew that it hurt... that much would be easy to guess. "'M sorry..." he said, moving to the edge of the car.  
He looked down, swallowing hard and thinking, 'this is gonna be hard.' Still, that wouldn't stop him. He couldn't let it. He climbed down from the door until his feet hit the edge of a small path, if it could be called that. He began edging across the ledge on a small cleft, that was barely 5 inches wide. He finally reached a point where he could get onto the other submerged metal car. He slowly slid off the ledge, still holding onto Sam, then shuddering slightly as his feet hit the cold water again. "Dangit... that's really cold." he muttered, half to himself, really, all to himself, but of course Sam would have heard.

Sam breathed sharply at every movement, though kept any comments or most sounds besides that to himself, it was hard enough for Dean as it was, that much was painfully obvious. "Dean, you okay..?" he asked finally, forcing his voice to stay even this time, and waiting for him to speak again.

Honestly, no, he was far from okay. Stuck in the bottom of some huge ditch, wading through frozen water, who knows where they were, and Sam was badly hurt... so, not okay, but he wasn't going to say that, not to his baby brother. "Yup... I'm good." he replied, moving to the other side, where he could now see the path. He reached it, stepping onto it sideways, with his back toward the rock wall. He would have to walk across it sideways the whole way pretty much. He could walk straight holding Sam... then again, the path was easier to walk sideways on anyway. "What about you?" he asked several moments later.

"Mkay..." Sam said in reply to Dean's answer to his question, only looking at the path and looking down at the water as Dean walked sideways with his back against the rock wall, asking, 'what about you?'. "What if I... never walk again?" he asked, his voice filled with fear. He was somewhat more confessing his thoughts to his brother. He said it because he couldn't walk at this point... every time he did, either he would go numb, or white-hot pain would flood over him... what if he never did? He swallowed hard but said nothing more, only pushing back slightly more against Dean as he stared down off of the path.

"You will... I know it. Don't ask how... I just do, okay? You're gonna make it out of this, you're gonna be fine." Dean stated, telling Sam what he thought without hesitation. He wouldn't let himself, or Sam think anything else. They were both going to be fine. He sighed quietly, flinching slightly as he kept moving, the hard, sharp rocks of the wall digging into his back. Still he didn't complain about it. They had a ways to go before they were out... a long way.

"Do you think Dad's looking for us?" he questioned, still staring down distantly off of the path until finally looking away, staring straight up at the sky, the sky which at that time was filled with heavy, grey, puffy clouds. Sam moved his arms around Deans neck maybe to help convince himself that they weren't going to fall, not looking back over the edge, just staring at the rock wall behind him/them.

"Uh..." Dean stopped, he had hoped that Sam wouldn't ask. In truth, deep down, he knew that Sam probably had guessed. For a 6 year old, he was smart. "They're gone." he said, saying gone rather than dead, but knowing that Sam would understand... he had dealt with enough death to know what 'gone' meant. Dean wished that he could undo that. Sam should never have had to deal with all of this at 6 years old... people dying all around him, and him not even knowing why. Of course, Dean wasn't gonna tell him what their dad did for a job... hunted monsters. He was going to protect Sam from that... just like from everything else.

"Oh..." Sam started simply, sadly used to hearing that term, 'gone', 'dead'. He nodded weakly and stopped moving his neck again, just staring at the wall... pretty sure they were nearly out of/off of the path. Sam uttered a sigh, changing the subject after a moment, "Where are we going?" he asked, feeling the urge to move, which, he denied, knowing he'd regret it if he did... he didn't want to sit still any longer.

"I dunno yet." The older brother answered. "Just, out... away from here I guess." he said, answering truthfully. "We'll find somewhere we can stay that's at least... sorta safe." he answered, knowing that it was the best answer he could give. He kept moving, glancing up for a moment. They had about 5 minutes left of walking to do at this point.  
He sighed, continuing to move at a snails pace. From here, he could see the tracks now... bent down and burnt out, looking like something extremely large had just ripped it apart. The train had fallen through, the engine itself had been pretty much gutted by the protruding tracks. It had been slashed into and severed. Dean could see it, under the water, the train's head/engine was completely ruined... the driver was probably dead before the thing hit the water. He sighed quietly thinking, 'we should all be dead... what happened is impossible.' Yet there it was, a single train car jammed into the rocks and stacked on the sunken ones. He kept moving, agonizingly slow, but now he could at least see the ledge that would get them out.

"Mkay.." Sam said simply and tiredly, saying no more for the time being, just trying as hard as he could to make it easier for Dean, which at this point was extremely hard. He heard a crunching sound inside his chest like two bones rubbing together each step Dean took, and grimaced into his brother's jacket, but still didn't say anything, or move for that matter.

"Sorry..." Dean said quietly, feeling Sam stiffen for several seconds. He slowed down even further, barely moving now, but not wanting to hurt Sam any more than he was already. He could now hear the wind rushing over the side of the steep drop off and thought, 'At least it can't reach us here.' Once they reached the top of course, it would be a different story, but for the time, they were untouched by it. Dean stopped for a moment, breathing a long sigh and leaning hard against the rock, grimacing at the slight sting. This was tiring... though he wasn't surprised by that. Seconds later, he started moving again. "About a minute more." he stated.

"Dean, Dean set me down, YOU need a break, please.." he said, squirming in his brother's arms as Dean started moving again, stating 'about a minute more.' He stopped moving after a moment, both small, ashen, shaking hands gripping Dean's jacket, trying not to let any sign let Dean know how he was actually feeling. Even his arm from the broken shoulder was pounding like a bad headache. He looked up pleadingly at his brother, waiting for him to say something.

Dean shook his head, seeing Sam's grip tighten even as he spoke the words. "No... I'm okay. I can keep going... it's not far." he replied, knowing that he could manage the next 20 yards. He didn't know what would happen if he tried to put Sam down, he only knew it was a bad idea, and he wasn't about to try it. "We'll stop when we get out of here... soon as it's safe." he added, glancing up at the ledge above them... so close now.  
About a minute later, he reached the edge of the tracks. He lifted Sam gently onto them, then pulled himself up. As soon as he was up, he picked Sam up again, moving him several yards away from the edge, and onto the safe ground thirty feet from the tracks. He sat down, lowering Sam to the ground carefully. He breathed several deep breaths, then lay flat next to Sam, staring up at the sky, which was somewhat blocked by branches of a tree that they were beneath. He looked over at Sam, thinking, 'I have to brace his shoulder.' He knew that he had stuff in the backpack... which was still slung over one shoulder, and half scraped up from the climb. 'Speaking of scraped up...' he thought, feeling his left shoulder and halfway across his back stinging and throbbing from sliding across the jagged rocks. "See... told you we'd get out." he said, as though he had never doubted it.

Almost annoyingly enough, Dean seemed to know Sam was hurt before even he did. Sam didn't move as Dean set him on the ground, picked him up again, then again lowered him back down and laid flat next to him, staring up at the sky saying 'See... told you we'd get out.'. Sam pooffed out air in another sigh, staring up at the sky also for several seconds before closing his eyes, taking weak faint breathing breaths. After a second he managed to squirm out of Dean's jacket, shoving it limply towards his brother, "don't need it anymore, you n-need it more than me." he said, listening to the wind screeching and howling.

"Brought the blankets." he replied, holding up his backpack triumphantly. He took his jacket and pulled it on, then unzipped the backpack, pulling out one of the blankets and putting it over Sam. He looked down at his hands, which were now pretty much numb, or he just got used to the pain, he wasn't sure now. He sighed, unwrapping one of them and looking at the white, cut, jagged skin around the deep cut, which was not bleeding at that moment, though it had stained the cloth red. He re-wrapped it and looked over at Sam. "Mk," he muttered, gently pulling Sam up to a sitting position.  
Dean pulled Sam carefully back until he was leaning against the tree, then stood and grabbed his backpack. He needed to put a sling/brace on Sam's shoulder now. He had put it back in place the previous night, but he knew it would still be wise to put a sling around it. He got a long cloth from his pack and moved toward Sam again, shrugging and saying. "Good thing Dad made me cram all this stuff in here." He started to make a sling, tying it the way that John had taught them to. "Okay... this should work." he said, putting it around Sam's shoulder and over his neck so that it would hold up. "Not amazing, but it'll work." he stated.

Sam pulled the blankets with him as Dean brought him back until he was leaning against the tree, going to make a sling, saying 'good thing Dad made me cram all this stuff in here. Not amazing, but it'll work.' "MMm... Dad would be proud right now." he said, looking up at his brother stiffly and painfully, though his bright green eyes sparkled and he smiled up at Dean.

"Yeah... we survived right? That's what he wants us to do." he said, remembering his dad's words. 'I'm teaching you to survive...' 'watch out for each other...' 'Dean, watch out for your brother,' 'watch out for Sam.' He sighed quietly, looking into Sam's eyes as he smiled at him. "Okay... we'll uh... rest here for a while." he stated, thinking about where they would go next.  
The chasm was too long... they couldn't go the way they had been... to Oklahoma... they would have to head back in the direction they had come from... maybe they would follow the tracks during the day, heading back to the South Dakota station, and at night they could find shelter. Dean looked up at the sky, seeing that the sun was about in the middle of the sky... it was probably about 11:00... maybe 12:00. He wasn't sure with the clouds, but that's what it looked like... that was his best guess.

Sam nodded after a second and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the hard ground with an quiet 'thump'. He caught his breath quickly from the movement, not letting on, or trying not to, about any physical pain, stiffness, anything, hide it as well as he could. "Could you... just... tell me... when you're ready to leave again?"

Dean didn't reply for a while, knowing that neither of them were ready to move anywhere at this point. "mk..." he answered simply, closing his eyes and listening to the wind rustling the leaves in the tree above them. He hoped it would rain again... that would make thing worse than they already were. He thought back to the train, remembering when the guy had pulled them from the metal walkway, and put them in the empty train, then come back... Dean wasn't entirely sure that he had even been real... what if he had just imagined him? He shrugged, not knowing about it... just, remembering... or trying to remember what he had seen last night.


	5. Chapter 5: Ominous Survivor

**(Just wanted to clarify something, when you get there, you'll understand this: There's nothing inappropriate. Know how it sounded sometimes when he was talking, but no, no mature themes such as that.) So anyways, if you're still reading, thanks!:DDDD Means a lot! And thank the three people for the reviews!:D Really helped!**

Hours later, they were moving through some forest, somewhere, or more like, Dean was walking, Sam was being carried. He hadn't said a word for a while now, just staying completely motionless and silent in Dean's arms, inside wishing they would find somewhere to stop, every step made his broken sternum crunch inside his chest and his spine jut painfully, but he wouldn't say that out loud, at least not to Dean, he was already having enough trouble as it was.

It had been hours, and they were still walking through the forest at a very slow pace. Dean knew that Sam just wanted to stop... but he knew that they couldn't stop just anywhere... this was South Dakota... it would get VERY cold at night, and in a forest... there were bound to be wolves. "We'll stop soon again, we'll just go a bit further." he said calmly, looking around for any sign of somewhere they could stay.  
They finally reached the top of a small hill and Dean paused, looking around. In the distance, he could see a small cabin... it looked as though it had been abandoned for years. There was a large shed attached to the house, but the door was hanging loosely open on its hinges, and from this distance, the shed looked empty. The house itself had windows that were boarded up, rather than glass. The front door was swinging open and shut, slamming again and again in the wind.  
Dean shuddered slightly, looking at the house, which had an all around ominous look about it... but it was better than wolves eating them, or freezing to death. As if on cue, a wolf could be heard howling in the distance. "Dangit..." Dean muttered, moving forward and glancing back once. He didn't want to be here... he just wanted to be back with John again... somewhere warm... somewhere that he and Sam weren't in danger of death from 4 different things all at the same time.

He looked up as Dean stopped on top of a hill and muttered 'dangit...', just as a wolf howled in the distance. There was an oddly disturbing looking cabin that made him shudder slightly, but only watching it as Dean started walking towards it. The door slammed open and close, swinging open, shut, over and over again with each blast of wind... hey, at least, it would keep the wolves from eating them, and/or keep them from freezing to death. Guess it was better than nothing. He moved back into the same position as before, only hoping to get to the cabin soon, really.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour... which it may have been, they arrived outside of the cabin. "I don't like it." Dean whispered, looking up at the looming cabin that was made of dark, almost black wood. The shed stood empty beside it, it's door stuck open, propped that way with an old axe. He swallowed hard, staring at the door as it opened and closed. He moved forward, waiting until it opened again, then pushing it, keeping it open with his foot so that he didn't have to set Sam down. He looked around, seeing and hearing nothing but the howling wind. He moved in quietly, again letting the door resume it's slamming. He set Sam down by a wall and then looked around, jumping at every sound.

Sam was set down by the wall and looked back up at Dean, who was flinching at every sound... he looked back around the cabin, wooden, so dark it was almost black, there was one other room from the one they were in, but he couldn't see what was in it. Probably just some bedroom or something, and then a basement underneath? Something like that. He stared in shock as his eyes met with someone else's, lifeless, bleak, blank, and bland brown eyes... he gasped quietly and looked at the guy, whose neck was turned in an unnatural position, swollen, purple, bruised...

Dean followed Sam's glance and jumped back, standing in front of Sam... There was someone... dead. "Crap." he whispered, moving back, still staying in front of Sam. They weren't alone. His mind ran through everything it could be. Okay, that person was dead... maybe a bear had done it and moved on? No... was it another person? He hoped not...

***Bad guy's POV*** Etah (The man's name) heard a sound coming from the other room... he had already heard the rhythm of the door broken as someone had walked in. He pulled his tall, thin, muscled self off the floor, hissing quietly at the pain in his ankle. He had twisted it in the escape from the train last night. He picked up his knives, stuffing them into his sleeves and moving through the house. He knew it wasn't 'officer' Riley. Wouldn't have been him... his neck was snapped. Nope, someone else... someone probably survived the train wreck. He moved forward, coming into the room from a darkened corner. He peered out, his one blue eye staring intently, the other eye was white, clouded over, unseeing. Etah remained in the dark corner, so that he could see them, were as, they could not see him. A grin spread across his scarred up face as he looked at them. He laughed quietly. Nothing but a couple of kids. How coincidental. He grinned even wider, moving forward, his boots clicking on the wood floor and his laugh came again, echoing through the small house. He stopped just at the shadow's end, so that he was still in the darkness, now standing beside the officer's dead body.

*S&D POV* Sam heard an almost, what, chuckling? And seconds later, a louder laugh came, echoing through the house as a figure stepped out of the shadows to stand by the lifeless corpse.. the guy as favoring one foot, he was bald, strong, but at the same time, well, he was skinny to the point of being able to see his bones sticking out. Sam swallowed back hard, blinking rapidly and staring at the guy without looking away, but still not trying to move... what did the guy want? Why did he kill the other guy? Who was the other guy? Even if he tried to convince himself the other guy had been a murderer, he couldn't... because the man standing next to him? He had this slowed down, sick, longing almost, air about him that made Sam feel sick himself.

Dean turned toward the laughing, seeing someone staring back... someone alive. His eyes opened wider, staring at the guy, unmoving. What was he supposed to do? Run? No... couldn't run. He backed up, stopping right in front of Sam, knowing he couldn't move farther back, and refusing to step out of the way. His eyes stayed fixed on the man who was standing beside the corpse. "W... what do you want?" Dean asked, forcing his voice to sound more confident after the first stutter.

The man laughed yet again, stepping forward, now letting them see him. His thin, pale face was almost white, and his lips were peeled back in a menacing grin. "Heheheheheha..." he laughed, moving forward, his tall frame made even taller by his dark shadow. "You shouldn't be here..." he said, his voice a quiet hiss. "Wanna play?" he asked, his voice hinting at something dark and horrid. He moved forward still, giving no answer to the older boy who had asked him what he wanted. He turned reached into his pocket and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs, and kept moving forward.

Sam let out a quiet gag and shuddered again, jumping off of the floor despite... well, everything. He yelped in pain and leaned against the wall, but didn't sit back down, only stared with wide eyes at the man who was still walking towards them... He gasped inaudibly and trembled hard against the wall, searing pain coursing through him, but adrenaline and fear had somewhat been used as an e...e... whatever it's called. His six year old mind had no idea right then, but he thought it might have been called, Emiphidor... or something like that? An almost 'morphine' that your body creates when scared, or with an adrenaline rush.

Dean stepped back rapidly, bumping into the wall, staring in horror at the man. He shook slightly, seeing his backpack, which was across the room. It had one of their dad's guns in it... but, the only thing was... the man was between them, and it. "S... stay back. I'm warning you..." Dean said, looking up at the man, who was at least 6'6. He stepped forward, despite every muscle in him wanting to run. Again, he stood in front of Sam, hoping that the man wouldn't do anything... hoping somehow that the man was just... harmless and crazy... but he knew better... the dead man in the corner was a clear sign of that.

The man's grin disappeared for a moment as the kid warned him to stay back. He paused, stopping and cocking his head sideways. He swung the two pairs of hand cuffs in a slow circle, watching the two boys as they stood, looking at him with horror filled eyes. He could see that the younger of the two was hurt... badly. The smile returned to his face and he spoke again, his voice like that of some quiet other-wordly wind. "Oh c'mon boyssss... I just wanna have a little... fun... No harm in a simple game... iss there?" he asked, moving forward. His limp causing an irregular pattern; the normal click of a boot heel, and the drag of his wounded foot, as he didn't bother picking it up, just let it drag. His hands gripped the metal cuffs, his nails chipped and caked in blood. He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes, looking completely mad as he continued crossing the house, now with less than two yards of distance between them.

Sam moved the arm that wasn't in a sling forward, shakily gripping his brothers shoulder and looking at the guy as he said 'Oh c'mon boyssss... I just wanna have a little... fun... no in a simple game... iss there?', his nails were chipped and bloody, he looked completely 'deranged, now only about a yard in front of them... 'What do we do?' his mind raced, keeping rhythm with the beating of his heart...

Dean stood frozen in the same position. He didn't know what to do. "P... please just... let us go. I swear we won't tell..." he whispered, glancing back at the dead guy in the corner, then up at the man. He knew that Sam couldn't run, he wasn't about to leave Sam, but he knew that he couldn't get away if he was carrying Sam. There was not a chance they could escape if the man didn't want them to.

"Ohh... I KNOWW you won't tell... wanna know... HOW I know?" Etah asked, glancing once at Sam, then Dean again. He stepped forward, clicking one of the handcuffs on the older kid's wrist. The kid fought back, but, compared to Etah, the kid's strength was minimum at best. He quickly snapped the other wrist into the cuffs, laughing mockingly and then pushing the kid hard against the wall. "What about you... little one... still wanna run? TRY..." he hissed, kneeling in front of the kid as he spoke, only inches from his face.

Dean groaned as the man shoved him against the wall. He slid to the floor, shivering slightly, his eyes wide. He looked in worry at the man, who was kneeling in front of Sam. "Please don't hurt him..." he whispered. The man took no notice of his words. Dean pulled on the handcuffs, but they were tight... he couldn't get loose from them.

Sam looked at Dean as he groaned and slid to the floor, shivering, his eyes wide, saying 'please don't hurt him...'... 'what about you... little one... still wanna run? TRY...', the man's face was only inches from his face, an odd, creepy, make-you-sick expression on his face. He let out a quiet choking noise and pressed himself harder against the wall, not showing any signs of leaving or even trying to... even if he could run, he wouldn't just leave Dean. He felt his heart thumping fast inside of his ribcage, like it would jump through his chest.

Etah laughed, his breath blowing against Sam's face as he did so. He pulled off the sling around the younger one's shoulder, then used the other set of cuffs, clasping them hard around Sam's wrists, tightening them to where he was certain that he could not be able to escape. He stood up, and hauled the older kid off of the floor, pushing him against the wall and looking into his eyes. "Don't hurt him, huh? How about I make you a deal... I won't hurt him... while you're alive... I'll make your kid brother... watch me kill you... THEN..." he paused, leaning forward and whispering into Dean's ear, "I'll cut him apart, little... by little... listening to him scream..."

Dean struggled against the man's grip, as he pushed him against the wall. His eyes filled with both fear, and, for the first time, hate. He hissed angrily, shivering as he tried to push back, but his attempts were weak, barely anything against the man. "I'll kill you." he coughed weakly, sniffing quietly and staring into the man's eyes, his rage un-flickering, though there was still fear. He looked at Sam, then back at the man. "Please... just... let HIM go. I'll stay... I won't ever try to get away... please..." he said, though every fiber in him wanted to do something... he wanted this man to pay... to suffer for those words... even the thought... but what could he do at this point? Nothing.

Sam moaned painfully and toppled finally to the floor, sitting with his back propped against the wall, staring at Etah as they spoke... 'Don't hurt him, huh? How about I make you a deal... I won't hurt him... while you're alive... I'll make your kit brother watch me kill you... THEN...' "Please..." he begged quietly to the man, sinking farther onto the floor, staring at the guy with an petrified, horrified, and mortified expression.. he just wanted the guy to let them both go, they were just kids..


	6. Chapter 6: Flutter

**Looks like we can finish the story today! Just a little ways to go... here goes nothing!**

***BAD guy's POV*** Etah looked at them both, pleading, scared, shrinking away from him... but there was something in the older one's eyes that he didn't like. He pulled the older one forward, toward a spot on the wall with an old metal latch, then hooked the handcuffs to them, making sure that it was secure, and he wouldn't escape. He looked back at the other kid again, actually wanting him to TRY and run... like a mouse, and he, being the cat, wanted a chase... but still, the kid didn't move, like he was frozen to the ground. He moved back across the ground, his limp quite clear, *Click, drag, click, drag, click,* on and on. He reached Sam's side, looking into the child's bright green eyes. "You CAN'T run... can y'... Good... then you can stay right here. Don't either of you be leavin' now... the... uh... fun is JUST beginning." he said, heading across the room, to the dead guy. He dragged him behind him, pulling him toward the cellar.

*S&D's POV* Sam pulled gently against the handcuffs, only staring at the man as he looked at him and started talking again, before leaving and dragging the dead guy with him towards who knows where. He sank completely to the floor, quaking painfully and taking in an quiet, deep breath, staring up at the roof and shifting uncomfortably, the swelling on his back gone up some, now his shoulder was back to the constant throb, Ect. But still, his heart pounded loudly, blood rushing in his ears, and the feeling like he was going to hurl on top of it.

Dean watched as their captor dragged the dead man to the basement in ominous silence. He looked across the room at Sam. Seeing the look on his face hurt worse than any pain he was feeling at the time. He pulled on the cuffs that the man had locked to a metal hinge. "This... is... a..." he paused, pulling and tugging on it, until his hands started bleeding again. "Minor... setback." he muttered, not stopping his constant attempts to escape the tight metal cuffs. 'Think... think think... what would Dad do?' he asked himself. 'Paperclip... but I can't reach one... not like this.' he thought in return, basically arguing in his head. "Sam... we're gonna be okay, y' hear me?" he asked, looking at his little brother.

***BAD guy's POV*** He, Etah, finally reached the basement, muttering to himself what he would do. He pulled one of his knives from his sleeve, and slashed the dead man's wrist, catching the blood in an old glass jar. He could hear the kids upstairs, shuffling slightly, he guessed that the older kid was most likely trying to escape... and the younger was probably still right where he had been. Etah watched the blood flow into the glass jar, staring at the crimson colored liquid with fascination. He moved his fingers into the steady stream of blood, catching it and then smearing it slowly across his face in the shape of a smile. His face was already white enough as it was, to appear as he had no color to it. He glanced around the basement, catching a glimpse of his reflection... his one blind eye and his one blue, almost white eye staring at his pale, skull-like face, lips, and teeth now covered in blood, he grinned, putting two lines from his lips, thinning out halfway across his face, making his smile seem wider, bloodier. He turned, searching for white powder... any kind really.

*S&D's POV* Sam's eyes flickered towards his brother only as he had said his name, and only then. He only stared for less than a second before his gaze returned to the roof, if he was physically capable, he would curl up and crawl into the darkest corner of the 'house' and pray for death. In fact, he longed for it, he longed to curl up as much as he could, and just shrink away into the darkness... "I-I trust you, Dean.." he croaked pitifully, closing his eyes and pulling his knees up slowly, pulling his handcuffed hands to his bruised, quickly and shortly rising and falling chest.

"Mk... good." he said quietly, telling himself he would die before letting anything happen to Sam. 'Well, today may be the day to find out.' he though bitterly. He hoped it didn't come to that, but if it did... he would do whatever it took to get Sam out alive. He continued to pull on the cuffs, trying his best to get free of them, but so far, he was having less than no luck, which was not a positive sign.

Sam heard Dean's quiet and simple reply, and said nothing in return, only staying in the same position as before and listening to the constant, 'chink, clink, rrkk, chhh..' sounds as Dean tried to escape the cuffs, pulling on them without stopping trying his best to get free. Sam coughed faintly, not hard enough to send any more pain throughout himself, just enough to break the silence... well, silent except for the sounds of the handcuffs.

***BAD guy's POV*** Etah looked up the stairs, hearing the sound of the one trying to get free. Not a surprise, he seemed like the type. He placed his knife back in his sleeve, then took the jar of blood, and flour. He walked back up the stairs, coming to a halt at the top of them. His ghoulish blood grin remained the same, though his actual expression was grimly wicked. His eyes sparkled with hatred, and his entire face looked like that of a living dead man. He moved forward, looking at the younger kid, then the older. "Kid... what's your name?" he asked the younger one, staring at him, laughing quietly to himself and standing across the room from the 6 year old. "Speak up... can't hear you..." he hissed, pointing up a few times and grinning as he waited expectantly. He glanced over at the older kid, who was glaring at him with an angry expression... "Don't need your name... you won't need it either for long." he told the older one.

*S&D's POV* "S-s-Sam..." the six year old stuttered, staring up with wide eyes at the pale man, who had a grin from blood, teeth covered in crimson as he sneered, the red drawing lines down his face as it drizzled downwards... He swallowed hard and clenched his jaws, staring without blinking at the man.

"Okay... Sam..." Etah said. "Watch me... don't look away." he said quietly, moving toward Dean, then glancing back at Sam. His eyes flashed with mild amusement, then he went on to do his 'trademark.' With all his victims, he did the same thing... white face... blood red smile. He pushed the older kid against the wall, keeping him from moving as he did his trademark. "See... not so bad... yet. 'Course... I know the blood doesn't taste so good..." he shrugged. "Y' get used to it after a while..." he whispered, a mocking, threatening tone in his voice. He pulled out a knife, forcing Dean to remain still as he slit it along the side of Dean's neck and chuckled as blood flowed from the cut in a slow stream, then did the same on the other side. Seconds later, he heard something... a slight flutter... a ruslting in the attic.  
He frowned angrily, making his horrifying features even more wretched. "Did you boys bring along a friend... without telling me?" he asked, glaring at them, he turned toward Sam, then Dean. "FINE... no answer... I'll go find the little rat on my OWN!" he yelled, flipping the knife around and jabbing the blunt end against Dean's ribs hard, then turning and moving away, his limp still clear.

Sam looked away to his right at the floor, closing his eyes again and blocking out all the sounds. He heard after a minute, the man's limp as he moved away towards the cellar, or basement, or wherever he had been going to get the blood and flour. He opened his eyes again and stared up at the roof, flinching slightly at about every sound.

Dean groaned and leaned hard against the wall as the man hit him hard with the back end of the knife. He breathed in sharply, trying to get enough air. His eyes widened in pain for several seconds and he pulled against the handcuffs. He was glad though, when the man left, though he knew the man would be back soon.  
Dean coughed weakly, knowing that the guy had broken at least one rib. It would heal. He gritted his teeth, looking over at Sam, who was staring at the floor, jumping and twitching at every sound. Dean groaned quietly again, using one sleeve to rub off as much of the white powder as he could, as well as the dead man's blood... though he hadn't been completely able to. He knew that he had to work fast... he had to get free.  
Dean pulled hard against the cuffs, this time not releasing the pressure when the pain worsened, instead, pulling harder. He heard a quiet crack, which was followed by a shooting pain through his arm. He let out a small, almost inaudible yelp of pain, but he was free now. The loose cuff slid away from the metal latch. He pulled his broken wrist toward himself, moaning quietly, but moving forward, kneeling beside Sam. "It's okay, we're gonna be okay." he said quietly, moving toward the backpack now.

Sam opened his eyes again as he heard Dean yelp, then after a second, Dean was kneeling next to him saying 'It's okay, we're gonna be okay.' He moaned quietly, and pulled himself backwards until he was sitting up against the wall, watching as Dean went to get his backpack. He blinked rapidly and looked around the room for a second before looking back at his older brother with wide eyes.


	7. Chapter 7: Wrap-up

Dean moved back across the room, pulling his backpack quietly with him. He sat beside Sam again, quietly and quickly picking the lock on the cuffs and then cramming them into the backpack. He glanced around once, still hearing the sound of the man in the attic rustling around as he searched for their non existent 'friend.' They NEEDED to escape before that white-faced freak came back. He wasn't letting that guy hurt Sam.

Sam pulled himself backwards and sideways away from the wall, grabbing the 'sling' and pulling it over his formerly broken arm and around his neck, trying to relieve some of the pressure/pain/throbbing. He had only just finished replacing it, when something unexpected happened. Sam cringed slightly as a screaming emanated from the attic where the 'clown' man had disappeared, blue light, and then leaving the cabin completely silent again. What had just happened?

Dean jumped, also hearing the scream, as it was impossible to ignore. His first thought was 'Did someone else survive the wreck? Did the clown man kill them?' He turned, his gaze fixed on the stair case, expecting the guy to come back. Seconds passed, finally footsteps could be heard coming from the attic... and to his surprise, it wasn't the clown. He didn't have to see to know... there was no limp.  
Dean looked back at Sam, then at the stairs again, thinking, 'Great... so then, the other guy is dead? But, does that mean whoever killed him is a killer too?' He looked back at Sam, then stood, turning toward the stairs and inching forward quietly. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking up and seeing a person.  
This man was not half so intimidating as the pale, skinny, blood covered murderer... this guy was just... well, not that scary. He had dark hair, blue eyes and was about 5'11 and had a trench coat.  
Was he the guy from the train? Where had he gone after the crash? Dean stared at the guy, not moving forward, or away again. The guy moved forward, stopping infront of him and looking down at him. "Dean..." the man said, his voice smooth and calm. "Y... yes." Dean replied, not understanding how this guy knew his name.  
Dean looked up at the taller guy. The man nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes and putting one hand on Dean's head. Dean flinched, closing his eyes and about to pull away, expecting pain, but within seconds, he felt bruises/wounds/cuts healing until the pain was completely gone. He heard a quiet sound, almost like wings.

His eyes widened in amazement, and he looked up, but the guy wasn't there. He turned, seeing him next to Sam, and doing the same thing. 'How is that possible?' he thought.

Dean moved forward looking at the guy in amazement, not really knowing what to say. Sam also looked equally as stunned, asking how the man had teleported. "Sam, Dean, were you the only ones who survived?" the man asked. Dean sat down beside Sam, who seemed completely better... healed. He nodded slowly. Well, there was the clown guy, but apparently, he was dead now. "Thank Y..." Dean hadn't even managed to finish his sentence, when the man stood infront of them, putting a hand on each of them.

Dean woke up, sitting next to Sam, Sam's head on his shoulder, and the two of them in the last empty train car... which was now soaked... sloshy, but just the way they had found it otherwise. "W..." Dean sat up with a jolt, as though waking from an odd dream that you can't remember. "Sammy... y' okay?" he asked, shaking Sam slightly to wake him.  
He looked around, hearing people all muttering in the next car over, some gasping, others coughing loudly. He stood up, then looked out the window at the next car. People were spitting out water, and the train was fully stopped, just in front of a break in the railing... it was completely broken. There was a river far below them... but somehow, someone had stopped the train.  
He moved back, looking at Sam again and getting the reply that he was okay. The 6 year old had stood up, also looking a bit confused, dazed, like trying to remember something that wasn't even there. Dean coughed quietly, thinking, 'What's going on? Are we missing something?' When they had come into the train... they had moved to the last one... Sam had talked to him about Mary... then... then what? He had moved next to Sam, and they had fallen asleep... he couldn't remember anything else... only waking up in the soaked train car.

**REALITY/PRESENT DAY**  
Dean gasped, sitting up and groaning. He coughed quietly, rubbing one hand over his face. He looked around... a hospital room? Seconds later, it all came back to him... the car crash. He frowned slightly... remembering the crash... They had been forced off the road by a semi, Yes, ANOTHER one. The Impala flipped then everything was just black. Sam... where was Sam? He groaned again, muttering a curse and getting everything from next to the bed.  
Dean moved through the hall, looking for Sam. In the back of his mind, slowly remembering the odd... 'dream.' He and Sam had actually been on a train once... and that had happened... they had woken up in a completely soaked train... people coughing up water... with two full days that no one could account for. Dean's eyes widened slightly... had that been a memory, not just a dream? Had Cas actually been there? If so... then he had saved their lives... again.

Meanwhile, Sam gasped in surprise and sat bolt upright, head spinning from the dream... dream... memory? It was a memory. That much he knew. He still remembered the clown... he always remembered the creepy clown guy, somehow. Seared into his brain... He flopped off of the bed, getting everything from next to the bed, and minutes later was moving out of the room quietly. They had been forced off the road, and the car had flipped, what had happed to Dean? Where was he? He moaned quietly, uttering a curse as he limped through the hallways looking for his brother.

Dean turned down the next hall, seeing Sam instantly... he was okay... or, well, as okay as one could be. "Dude, gotta tell you something." he stated, not knowing if Sam had the same 'revelation' as he had. Though, for some reason it wouldn't surprise him... something about it seemed like... well, it seemed like it was just, something that wasn't exactly brought on by, 'normal' causes.

"You stole my words..." Sam said, parking infront of Dean and glancing nervously around himself for a second before he calmed down, shoulders relaxing again. "Clown dude, that freakin' clown..." he muttered under his breath and shook his head. "Train..." he murmured, dropping hints to see if he was just rambling on, or if his brother remembered also.

"Uh... yeah... now who's stealing whose words. okay... freakin' clowns... you're right... this time." he stated, looking around and then back. "Cas...he brought all the people back... all the people on the train died... I saw them... or, well, I remember seeing them." he stated, knowing that it was Cas that brought them all back... and healed he and Sam, saving them from a freaky, horrid death-by-clown. He paused, seeing a doctor staring at them, the doctor's mouth just sort of hanging open in surprise. "Is it me, or is that guy staring?" Dean asked, already knowing that answer... it was quite clear. "How long were we... um... out?" he asked Sam first, then looked back at the doctor. From the man's reaction, one would think... it was like them just being up was some kind of miracle.

Sam turned to look at the Doctor, making a face for several seconds as he saw him gaping at them. He turned back to Dean with the same confused expression, looking back and forth between brother and doctor. The Doctor had an 'oh my gosh, they're alive' expression... Oh... that's exactly what he was thinking, wasn't it?  
Sam jumped, because, as if on cue, he heard a sound of flapping, familiar wings. The Doctor lost all coloring in his face and dropped to the ground after an odd sounding squeak, passed out. He frowned slightly and turned back to the trench-coated angel.

Dean flinched slightly, turning toward Cas. Yup, Cas. He looked at the angel, his eyes slightly wide. He had saved them then? That was him... all those years ago. But why hadn't he stayed with them on the train? He blinked rapidly, his mouth opening and closing as his mind tried to think of a question.

Cas looked at both Winchesters, who were now staring at him with dumbfounded expressions. "You were in a car crash." he stated. Of course he was well aware that they knew that, but he said it anyway. He had healed them, really, he had brought them back from what would have been permanently being in a comatose state. They were never supposed to wake up according to the doctor... who was now lying on the floor, blacked out. "Sam, Dean..." he noticed the strange looks on their faces, "Did, I, do something?" he asked, knowing that Winchester, 'look.'

"Uh," Sam started, then hesitated for several seconds, glancing at his older brother than back to the angel. "What happened... I mean, with the, train. And the, um, clown." he said, not knowing exactly how to put what he was asking. He clenched his teeth together, turning his head sideways slightly.

Dean let Sam do the 'talking,' which just ended up being cluttered stuttering. However, he nodded, and finally managed to get his own thoughts together. "In 89... the train from South Dakota." he added some detail to what Sam said to make more sense of what they were trying to explain to their friend.

Cas looked at the two as they tag-teamed, explaining what they meant in a very un-Winchester like way. He waited patiently until they had both stopped talking. Yes, he knew what they were talking about now. "1989... I was protecting Dean." he stated, remembering how that had been his 'assignment.' To protect Dean.  
He had been doing just that when a demon had derailed the train, which he promptly explained. "A demon burned through the tracks and derailed the train... I meant to heal you..." he said, looking at Sam then. "But the demon warded the train before I could." he stated. "I was sent back to heaven. I had to track you down again. Then I found you with the clown."  
Cas paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I thought clowns were supposed to be... funny." he said, frowning slightly and cocking his head. He let that thought drop, to continue his explanation. "I healed you both then took you back to the train... after pulling it from the river. We brought back all of the people of course." he added as an after thought, remembering how many that he and the others had to 'bring back' so to speak. He looked at the two, to see if that response was what they had wanted.  
It had been. The two brothers were satisfied with the answer.

**So, that was it... Want more stories? Please message/review... you know, or whatever! Just someway so VanillaJohn and I know if we should start another!:D**


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